


Impossible alliance

by MeridaB



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Croatia 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c., political RPF - European Union 21st c.
Genre: 2018, Bisexual Female Character, Community: femmeslash, Europe, F/F, F/M, Kolinda, Love, Macrolinda, Presidents, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, World Cup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-06-15 17:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15417513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeridaB/pseuds/MeridaB
Summary: Here's what happens when the croatian president's political agenda leads to 2 presidents falling for each other. You're in for some Kolinda Grabar-Kitarovic and Emmanuel Macron fluff and smut. Featuring vodka and croatian liqueur ;)Actually, you can also add Brigitte Macron into the mix #throupleinthemaking





	1. How it began

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I'm not the only one out there who thoroughly enjoys this ship. Would love to read your thoughts in the comment section but please be kind! Xoxo

**Kolinda**

Kolinda was planning her trip to Russia, the last phase of her scheme to boost her popularity before the elections. Everything was falling into place, exactly like she had expected. As a politician, organisation was definitely her strong suit. This, and manipulating her electorate.

She was scrolling down her social media. Articles about her were already all over facebook. “The president who took unpaid leave to go to the world cup and travelled on commercial flights to get to Russia.” “The hottest president in the world” with that old picture of her in a lilac bikini. She smiled. Little did people know that she was the one who had posted the picture – anonymously of course. She had had the idea when the Croatian people had mistaken her for American model Coco Austin.  One thing she had understood during her first campaign was that more is more when it comes to publicity.

People were so dumb… especially the men. They found her “hot”, “sexy”, “fuckable”, and even called her  “a PILF”, if she was to believe the internet. She always knew that, if she could seduce them into voting for her, she would win. That is how she had always worked her way up. As a woman in politics, she could not only rely on her brains. No matter how smart she was – and she was very smart indeed – she had found that there was no better strategy to win the support of white-haired politicians than letting them believe that she could sleep with them.

Politics, seduction… Same thing.

She typed in “Emmanuel Macron”. Pictures of the French president appeared on the screen of her laptop, and she zoomed in on one of them. He seemed to be smiling at her – such a tease. France winning the semi-final was the best guarantee her plan would work. She smirked at the picture. Like in her memory, Macron was handsome, which was a nice bonus, she thought.

 

**Emmanuel**

Emmanuel was not going to lie. Watching the final IN the tribune WITH Kolinda Grabar-Kitarovic was not the worst situation he had found himself into since he had been elected. He had met the Croatian president once before and had liked her instantly. He found her wits and intelligence stimulating, her charms and beauty, breath taking. She was older than him - just like he liked it - and much hotter than any other politician he had ever met.

They hugged as they saw each other. Her blond hair brushed his face, filling his nostrils with her rich fragrance. She made the hug last long enough – maybe too long? – that he could appreciate the softness of her skin against his face, the luscious curve of her breasts on his chest, the feel of the small of her back against his hand.

Several times throughout the match, he caught her looking at him, smiling. He did not mind really; he actually enjoyed the attention. But there was something odd and unnatural in the way her sultry eyes undressed him. He had never felt like she was that kind of woman.

As time went by, she got closer to him, touching his hand, his arm, his back, whispering comments in his ears, thus making it impossible for him not to think about all the things he would like to do to her - and yet could NOT do to her. She was hot, she was flirting hard, and he was buying it, leaning into her touch, muttering things into her ears too.

He kissed his wife a bit too passionately after the match. He felt guilty. After all these years, he still loved her, but it had been a long time he had not felt any sexual desire for her.

Kolinda took his hand, holding it firmly as they walked onto the stage to congratulate the players.

It’s only when the rain started pouring that things got awkward.

…

**Kolinda**

Kolinda was enjoying this much more than she had ever thought she would. Emmanuel was responding nicely to her seduction game –he was such a flirt too! She found that she was very much attracted to him and before she could realise it, she was itching at the thought of what could come out of this encounter.

She shook her head. “Get yourself together Kolinda. That’s not what you’re here for. You’re doing this only for the publicity”

She was becoming drunker with every sip of Putin’s vodka, and she was getting dangerously close and intimate with the French president. As she whispered her congratulations to him, accidentally inhaling his male scent in the process, she caught herself wanting him to touch her in places where she hadn’t been touched in a while.  It had been a long time since her husband had even kissed her. He would hold her hand or peck her on the cheek in front of the camera, but that was it.

After all, she was only a woman with needs, and him a man. A man who was the president of one of the most powerful nations in the world.

Fuck this, she thought as the rain started pouring.

“I really like you Emmanuel”, she whispered in his ear, rubbing her nose against his cheek.

She didn’t mean to say that. Putin’s vodka must have made her. Yes, that was it, the vodka…


	2. Down the rabbit hole

**Emmanuel**

Emmanuel was getting himself ready for the party Putin had organised to celebrate the french victory, but he was unable to focus on anything. The memory of the luscious blonde, her voice, her smell, her ways… a swarm of thoughts was buzzing in his head, uncontrollably.

“I really like you Emmanuel.”, she had said, catching him off guard. What he had meant to say was “I really like you too.” Or “I want to kiss you. Now” or “Please, fuck me. Now.”. But all he had done – the best he could do really -was increase his hold on her hand. He could not possibly say anything, no matter how hard he wanted to.

“Emmanuel. I’ve got a big headache...”

His wife’s voice brought him back to reality, crushing his soul with guilt. He had been too busy thinking about the events of the day to see that his wife was unwell. Brigitte was so caring and supportive, and he… he was the worst husband in the world.

“Are you alright s… sweetheart?” Calling his wife pet names when he had been imagining himself with another a second ago felt tremendously wrong. Brigitte deserved much better.

“I’m gonna stay in the room. Enjoy your night.”

She kissed him on the cheek and let go of him. He hurried out of the room, unable to look her in the eyes.

As he was waiting for the elevator, he heard a door closing behind him in the corridor. His heart sank in his stomach; he knew it was her, before even looking.

Kolinda was absolutely beautiful. Her crimson dress hugged her curves with otherworldly perfection, showing a cleavage that was to die for. Her blond curls fell graciously on her bare shoulders, brushing gently her tanned skin. Her eyes were sparkling like the brightest stars in her heart-shaped face. Her lips painted in red were an invitation to sin. His gaze could not help but linger on the skin of her chiselled legs.

“good evening” she muttered, breaking the spell.

He closed his mouth, unaware that it had been opened all this time.

“Hi” was all he managed to utter

She walked down the corridor to meet him, taking hesitantly the arm he was offering her.

“We need to talk”, she said, determined.

She waited for the door of the elevator to close to say:  
“Look. About what I said on the stage. I was drunk. I didn’t mean it. I like you like you like a friendly colleague, period. I have to apologise about the way I’ve been acting. The only reason I’ve done it is to increase my popularity with the media… I’m so sorry. All of this was unfair to you and your wife – it’s her arm you should be holding”

The doors opened, she freed herself from his arm and slid out of the elevator, not giving him a chance to answer.

 

**Kolinda**

Kolinda was pleased with herself. She had managed to say everything she had meant to say to Emmanuel when all she could think of on the elevator was how much she wanted to kiss him; she had not faltered, god bless.

She took hold of one of the glasses of champagne a waiter was presenting her. She felt the sparkling elixir pouring down her throat, bringing her relief. And she drank another glass. And a third one. And a fourth one. And then she lost count.

The alcohol was soothing her pain, while sharpening her senses.

When she was drunk enough, she started mingling with the crowd. In normal circumstances, she would have been ashamed of her Russian, but tonight she could not care less. Plus, the champagne was helping greatly with her fluency. A tall Russian man with a moustache invited her for shots, which she agreed to. The Russian seemed greatly impressed with both her Russian and how fast she could drink. After what seemed like half a dozen shots, she took the initiative of inviting him to dance. He said yes. Kolinda was beginning to really enjoy herself; the Russian was quite handsome, though not nearly as much as Macron. Macron, aka the man she had been meaning to forget with all this alcohol – unsuccessfully it seemed… Where was he even? She had not seen him the entire night.

She scanned the room minutely, looking for the young Frenchman. She finally spotted him. Unsurprisingly, he was in the middle an animated conversation with Putin. His face was red and  his eyes, adamant; he had taken off his blazer, and his half unbuttoned white shirt partly revealed his chest; as many signs suggesting that he was just as sober as she was. Damn he was hot. She wanted him all for herself, now, and she was not one to take no for an answer.

She excused herself to the Russian before making her way through the crowd to where the object of her lust was standing. She had just had the most brilliant idea.

**Emmanuel**

He had no idea where Kolinda was taking him, but his reason, though clouded by all the alcohol he had been drinking, was telling him there was no point arguing with the Croat.

She had interrupted his conversation with Putin, grabbed his hand, and dragged him to the elevator, and then, to her room. She started taking of her tights and dress in front of Emmanuel who could hardly believe his eyes. She looked even better in her underwear than anything he had imagined. She was all curves; her flesh was luscious, and her skin, velvety and pale in contrast with the crimson lace of her bra and knickers.

“Are you blushing??” she asked, teasingly.

“You’re probably gonna think I’m an idiot but… I’ve only ever seen two women in underwear before you… And one of them was my 16-year-old girlfriend”

He looked away, a bit ashamed of what he had just admitted.

“Oh! That’s sweet.” She answered, a bit flustered too as it seemed.

When he looked at her again, he was surprised to see she had traded her dress for black shorts and her Croatia jersey. She grabbed a sports bag, and, without much of an explanation, invited him to follow her.

“You’re going to love this I promise!” she said, bubbly

Eventually, they made their way outside, hand in hand – this insignificant gesture of intimacy was becoming one the most pleasant habit.  Both him and Kolinda were giggling, as if they were teenagers on a first date -or drunken politicians on a nightly escapade.

Emmanuel felt like he had not been able to catch his breath since the moment he had hugged the other president in the tribune, and he had to say that the fresh air on his face and in his lungs was a relief, especially with the heat radiating from Kolida’s hand in his.

  
“Ok here is perfect! I don’t reckon anyone will be able to see us from the hotel.”

Emmanuel was getting more intrigued by the second.

“Are you ready?” she asked, zipping the bag open.

“Ready for what?” he asked, acting annoyed.

“FOOTBAAAAAALL”

She had drawn a ball out of the bag and she was now dribbling away from him. Instinctively, Emmanuel went running after her. It was just like tracking a prey, and it felt empowering.

**Kolinda**

Emmanuel was already catching up on her and she was out of breath, but she kept running, faster and faster, ignoring her heart pounding in her chest. The adrenaline was coursing through her veins, electrifying her body. She could feel the presence of the man behind her, the air beating her face, the wet grass under her feet, and the ball rolling ahead of her. It was all thrilling.

He was right behind her, she could tell, so she did volte face, ready to fight for the ball. They were both breathing heavily, their eyes filled with a beast-like flame. Macron was swift, but she was swifter, frustrating all his attempts at stealing the ball.

She couldn’t help but tease him:

“So who’s winning now?” is all she had the time to say before he pounced on her. Their intertwined bodies rolled onto the damp grass, fighting for dominance.

Emmanuel eventually managed to immobilise her under his weight, pinning her wrists on either side of her face.

“I am winning”, he said.

His lusting eyes seemed to be devouring her, his sturdy body was topping hers,  his erection was pressing hard against her wet crotch, and his tantalising breath was brushing her flushed skin.

“Kiss me”, she begged, defeated.

And so, he did kiss her, hungrily. She deepened the kiss, so as to taste every corner of his mouth. It felt like a thousand fireworks dancing in her stomach and behind her eyelids. She felt transfixed by the sheer perfection of that moment. They were both falling down the rabbit hole, and there was no way back.

 


	3. Where things get out of hands (or in Kolinda's hands to be more accurate)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure where I was going with this chapter but I really enjoyed writing it! Hope you have fun reading it too. (spoiler alert: it features croatian liqueur)

**Emmanuel**

Emmanuel broke the kiss before it had the chance to intoxicate him irreversibly. The hot Croatian president writhing under him was much more than his manhood could handle; she was soft and sweet but also passionate and fierce.

He took a moment to admire her face. Her skin was smooth and pink, surrounded with haphazard golden curls. Her glossy lips, coated with his saliva were fixed in the ecstatic smile that seemed to never leave her face, complimenting her pearl-white teeth and high cheekbones. Her nose, he thought, looked as if it would fit perfectly against his collar bone, and her brown eyes, warm and intelligent, seemed to have captured the full moon within their orbs. She was simply the most gorgeous creature he had ever beheld.

She smirked.

“Told you you’d like this!” she said, mischievously.

She rocked her hips against him, making him quiver.

“We can’t do this…” he said.

“Does it have to mean we won’t?” she enquired, but the smile had vanished from her face.

He sighed, rolling onto her side. Her hand came to snuggle in his as if it was the most natural thing in the world

“I really like you too Kolinda, he eventually said. But I can’t, and I won’t”.

They both sat up.

“Look, I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up. I’ll go get my bag” she said, cupping his cheek and stroking gently with her free hand, just like a mom.

He looked at her quizzically as she stood up and walked away in the obscurity.

 

**Kolinda**

She cried in silence as she went to get her bag. She felt so stupid, and drunk, and powerless … It had been a long time since she had been so desperate to be with someone. Why dit that someone have to be him? Why did he have to be such a good man?

She rummaged through her bag, drawing out the flask she had brought from her hometown distillery. She drank a long sip to give herself the courage to dry her tears. The last thing she wanted was for Emmanuel to see her like this. The alcohol in her throat warmed her up like an old friend’s embrace; she was smiling again as she came back, hugging the flask against her chest.

“That’s Rakija - a homemade Croatian liqueur. Over 50 % of alcohol.”, she explained, handing him the flask.

She giggled, when she saw his face after he had tasted the liqueur.

“ti si slatka” she said, giggling.

“what did you just say?”, he asked.

“I said that you’re cute”  
She sat down next to him, leaning against his shoulder to keep herself warm – at least that is what she told herself.

“I’m not cute. I am one of the most powerful men in the world.” He frowned and took another sip - he did not blink this time.

“Never have I ever…” she started, already plotting her vengence.

“Oh nooo… Not this stupid game…”

“… been drunk on French liqueur before” she continued.

Her smile widened as Emmanuel drank. 

“My turn. Never have I ever… had my team losing the world cup today”

“Fuck you.” She kicked him in the stomach with her elbow. “Never have I ever … lost a football challenge against a sexy Croatian lady.” She said after a moment of hesitation.

“Damn… You’re good at this.” He said, taking the flask from her hands.

And it went on, for what seemed like a half hour. The alcohol made her dizzier with every sip, and soon, her body was on fire. She did not really know what she was doing anymore when she handed him the empty flask – She had drunk the last drop.

Emmanuel looked at the empty flask, agape, and he started giggling. “Tu… as… tout bu “, he eventually managed to say -in French - between two laughters.

“No! you drank everything kurvin sin” she replied.

“You’re the kurvin sin -wait - what does it even mean?”

Without knowing how, or when, or from where, their eyes locked, with their faces inches apart.

Emmanuel was on fire too. Kolinda could tell. She smiled seductively, and he smiled back.  
“Never have I ever… wanted to _fuck_ a woman so bad.” He said, playing with a strand of her hair.

She felt like her heart was falling down her stomach. The word _fuck_ had always had a triggering effect on her.

“can you repeat that again, please.” Her voice was hardly a whisper. Her throat was dry, and she could not only blame the alcohol.

“ _I want to fuck you real bad Kolinda.”_

_She inhaled deeply, and she closed her eyes_

_“I want to kiss you with tongue. And then slide my hand in your wet underwear, while I kiss my way down your perfect neck”_

_She caressed her own neck, as if in a trance._

_“I’ll undress you Kolinda. And you’ll be gloriously naked and wet for me”_

_She moaned, unconsciously._

_“I’ll suck your big tits until they are harder than my own erection. I’m so hard for you, you’ll be trembling at the thought of me fucking you”_

_She trembled, sliding two fingers within the waistband of her shorts. She was wet down there, dripping wet._

_“then I’ll go down on you and I’ll lick your wet pussy. I’ll lick you like one shouldn’t lick a lady. I’ll fuck you with my tongue until you’re almost climaxing. But then I’ll stop. And you’ll be begging me to continue.”_

_“Please” she said drawing circles around her clit, faster with every stroke, as if she was possessed._

_“Only then, I’ll let you fuck me. Faster, and faster. And harder and harder. My cock will be so big and hard inside you you’ll have no choice but to ride me like mad. Faster, and faster. And harder and harder. Until you cum, on top of me, and I cum inside you. Until we both fall like a big hot mess.”_

_And she came. Her fingers and Emmanuel’s words were working wonders on her body, and she was feeling “la petite mort” in her every cell._

_“fuck” she muttered, struggling to catch her breath. And she fell like big hot mess - unconscious in his arms._


	4. What a rough night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally found the inspiration/time to write another chapter of this haha... honestly got lazy writing this one though so it's not great... Hope some people will enjoy it anyway ;)

Emmanuel

Emmanuel woke up with the distinctive feeling that someone had been hammering his head all night. He shut his eyes again, unable to cope with the harshness of daylight. Where was he again? Oh right.. Russia, the world cup, the french victory… He could still feel the taste of alcohol on his palate, and he assumed that it must have been a rough night of celebration, as he had hardly any recollection of what had happened… Damn Putin and his bloody vodka…

He opened his eyes again. The clock on the bedside table read 11 O’clock.

“Oh putain…” he cursed; his flight was in 3 hours. He turned around in the bed to ask Brigitte why she had not woken him up.

“OH PUTAIN” He jumped onto his feet, realising that the woman sleeping peacefully next to him was not his wife…  nor was she wearing any clothes.

Oh god... What had he done? The president of Croatia opened her eyes and looked at him intently, making him conscious that he was not wearing any clothes either.

All of a sudden, he remembered everything. Kolinda holding his hand at the final, their talk on the elevator, their nightly escapade in the park, the Croatian liqueur, Kolinda masturbating herself to unconsciousness, and him eventually carrying her to her hotel room where they had had the dirtiest sex he had ever had, even in his wildest dreams. He now remembered every single detail.

As soon as they had been in the hotel room, she had woken up from her coma, she had pinned him to the wall, and she had kissed all the air out of his lungs. She had taken off his trousers and she had eagerly taken his dick into her mouth. Damn she had made him hard… He could not believe how she had somehow managed to give him - not one, but a series of full erections throughout the night, in spite of all the alcohol he had drunk.

She had turned him on so hard, and she had felt so good that he had not been able to restrain himself from fucking her throat… And then he had undressed her, and he had sucked her nipples while she had hold his head against her chest like a mom breastfeeding her child.  And that is how she had had her first orgasm. She was even more gorgeous during sex, with her bottomless eyes clouded with pleasure, her blond curls gloriously dishevelled, and her nipples, hard and erect.

And then she had sat on his face, riding his mouth with her pussy. She was hot, and wet and she tasted like apple pie that has just been taken out of the oven. And so, she had come a second time, harder.

“Please fuck me. I need you inside me” she had begged.

That sentence and the sight of her naked body on top of him had been enough to make him hard again. And so he had fucked her. He had fucked her wet pussy, he had fucked her tits, and eventually yielding to her supplications, he had fucked her in the arse. He had fucked her on the bed, on the wall,  in the shower and on the carpet. He had fucked her until they had both collapsed on the bed like a big hot mess - just like he had promised her. 

What a rough night indeed…

Kolinda

“Errr… fuck” was all she managed to mumble

“I know…” Emmanuel answered. She could perceive the beginning of an erection between the legs of the French president who was staring at her naked body, and she felt a hot wetness pooling between her legs. No. She was too hungover for this. Plus she could not allow it to happen again.

“You need to go… Now… I’ll phone you… or no, I mean, I won’t…” What was she even saying? Emmanuel was not one of the one night stands she used to have in high school for heaven’s sake… And yet, they were both acting like guilty teenagers…

She managed to get out of bed and started picking up his clothes to throw them at him. What she needed most was some alone-time in order to process the fact that she, Kolinda Grabar-Kitarović, president of Croatia, had just cheated on her husband with a married man who also happened to be the president of France. Not to mention that all she could think of at that moment was how much she wanted to do it again. 

“GO” She said, listening to her reason. She had taken her politician voice – the one that owed her the nickname of SWMBO (She who must be obeyed) when she worked for NATO – and, to her greatest satisfaction, it worked; within no time, Emmanuel was on her doorstep, fully dressed

“Phone me though” he said, stealing a peck on her lips

“OUT!”

 And she shut the door on him.

She  could not believe how reckless he was. She could well imagine the scandal that would ensue if anybody had seen them… But damn… What a night. And what a lover he was.


	5. the morning after the deed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a very useful chapter but I feel like things would have been incomplete without it. Also I particularly like those two secondary characters and it was nice to write about them :)

**Emmanuel**

Emmanuel burst into the hotel room he shared with his wife, looking frantically for her. To his surprised, she was standing by the window, and she did not even look at him as he came in. He was dumbfounded. Somehow, he had foolishly thought that she would have been worried sick, looking for him everywhere and feverishly trying to dial his number…

Her voice stopped his impetus, denying him the chance to say anything.

“Where have you been?”

Emmanuel could tell something was off with his wife. She sounded stern and emotionless, as if under a spell, pronouncing words that were deprived of their substance.

She looked at him with eyes that were more eloquent than a thousand words.

 _She knows_ , he thought

“I know” she said.

Emmanuel tried to avoid her eyes that were piercing through him – in vain.

“How was it?” she said. Her eyes were dry but he could hear the tears in her voice, which made his heart sink.

“Brigitte I…”

“Is it because she is more beautiful than me? Younger? Or because you just wanted to fuck her?”

“Vulgarity doesn’t suit you Brigitte” was all he managed to utter, and he regretted it the moment the words came out.

“How dare you lecture me… after what you’ve done…”

She was hurt and bitter, and she had every reason to be, Emmanuel thought.

“I’m sorry. You deserve better than me.” he said eventually.

“You don’t understand Emmanuel… I left everything for you. No, I was certainly not happy with my husband, but I could have run away with any man who was my age at the time.... I chose you though. I ran away with you. And it meant that I would forever be seen as the old crone that had robbed you from your happiness – who could not give you children and who didn’t deserve you. And all the sacrifices I had to make when you decided to run in the presidential election… I didn’t care Emmanuel, because I was Brigitte Macron, and I loved you. How could you do this to me… And how could I be so stupid…”

She melted into tears, falling into his arms.

He stroke her hair gently.

“You smell like her…” she said bitterly.

“Please, forgive me.”

She broke their embrace, looking him in the eyes with a newly-found determination

“Yes. I forgive you.” She inhaled deeply " And I’m leaving you Emmanuel”

 

**Kolinda**

Kolinda looked at her phone, hopeful.

Notifications on her social media and on her voicemail were piling up, but no news from Emmanuel.

Her husband himself hadn’t even bothered to get in touch with her. Once upon a time they had been young and in love… and then life had happened… and children, the presidency… They had slowly drifted apart. He was like one of these friends that have always been part of your life, but somehow, you do not really know why they were here in the first place, or why they still are… They had not connected – sexually, spiritually and emotionally – for such a long time she had no idea who her own husband was anymore.

She felt a pinch in her stomach, thinking about what they had had, and what they had irremediably lost.

She shuddered when she felt the phone vibrate in her hand, with the letters “PM” flashing on the screen. She ignored it. But soon the phone was vibrating again. This time, a text message came shortly after.

_Stop ignoring my phone calls. We need to talk asap._

Hardly had she had the time to read the message that her phone was vibrating again.

She reluctantly pressed the green button – he didn’t give her much of a choice.

“Predsjednika republike hrvatske on the phone how can I help” she said, trying to sound innocent.

“Where the … where were you Kolinda?”

Great, he was angry. The conversation was definitely going to be joyous.

“In the shower…”

“long shower… I mean, I have been trying to phone you since yesterday… It’s almost noon for heaven’s sake”

He paused - she didn’t answer.

“Have you seen the articles at all?”

“Not really…” she said guiltily.

“Let me read this to you.  _KolindaGrabar-Kitarović, thePresident of Croatia, was the centre of attraction of the media and photographers during the final of the 2018 World Cup, which was held on Sunday, July 15th._

 _Kolinda Kitarović clearly did not take into account protocol principles and her status as president of the republic. She let herself go by offering some hugs considered excessive by most. It is Emmanuel Macron, the president of France, who has most tasted the embraces of the Croatian President. In the presidential stands during the match, in the field for the presentation of the cup, with his jacket, without a jacket, in the pouring rain … At any time, the first woman to lead Croatia was in the arms of Emmanuel Macron_ ” What were you thinking Kolinda?”

“Andrej, I…”

“Wait it gets better. An old maid affirms that she has seen you… _The French president was carrying the Croatian lass in his arms – she was very much drunk - around the hotel. I am positive it was her. She was wearing that checked jersey. And him… Well I recognise a handsome lad when I see one_ ”

“Oh fuck…”

“Kolinda. I’m gonna ask you this once and you’d better tell me the truth. Did you sleep with Macron.”

She inhaled deeply. “Yes”

“Oh Kolinda… Kolinda…”

“Don’t “Kolinda” me, and stop shaking your head”

She knew him so well she had no issues picturing his reactions at the other end of the line.  
“You don’t make my life easy child. I’m gonna do everything to avoid a scandal but I can’t promise you anything.”

“Thank you Andrej. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I would do anything for you madam president”

He hung up before she could reply.

“I know Andrej. I know.” She said to herself. Her prime minister was yet another man in her life that she could play like a fiddle. She was getting weary of this.

She would give anything to relive last night. For the first time in a long, long time, she had felt alive. _He_ made her feel alive.


	6. FUCK YOU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wee transition towards more smut and fluff ;) thanks for people that are still reading me. I know my written English is rubbish and I appologise for it

_5 hours later_

**Kolinda**

She had eventually made it to the airport; soon she would be home and everything would go back to normal - at least that's what she hoped. She looked at her phone to see if she had received a text from a special someone… But nothing.

She cursed; her phone was vibrating… again. She had just spent worth of a full day on the phone over the past hours, trying to catch up with everything that had been happening in her own country while she was in Russia.

“Andrej, look, can this wait until I’m home? I’m at the check in right now… My flight is in less than an hour…”

“I’ll be quick. I’ve got some good news and some bad news. The good news is, the national newspapers won’t relay the story of the old maid. The bad news is…”

Andrej always paused before dropping bombshells, and she had always despised him for it.

“Go straight to the point” she said sharply, not even trying to hide the fact that she was annoyed.

“Jakov’s lawyer phoned today… He wants...”

_Attention please, this is the last call for Croatia airline flight 9111 to Zagreb. Departing passengers should proceed to gate 45 immediately_

“I can’t hear you because of the passenger announcement. What does he want???”

She was losing patience, almost ready to hang up.

“A divorce. Jakov wants a divorce”

“What??????? There’s got to be a misunderstanding. Please get him to text me asap. I can’t afford to miss that flight.”

And she hung up, speechless.

_What on earth was wrong with her life these days?_

**Emmanuel**

Emmanuel and Brigitte, unlike Kolinda, had booked a private flight, which Emmanuel now regretted. Because they were alone, the silence between them was all the more difficult to bear.

“I don’t want you to leave me.” He eventually said, breaking the ice.

Brigitte sighed, and he wanted to hold her frail body against him tighter than ever, but he also knew that she would not let him get anywhere near her. The blood on his hand was still fresh, so fresh that he could almost taste the sin on his fingers.

“I know. But you don’t want to stop fucking around with that woman either, do you? How can I be sure you won’t be tempted again when you see her at a NATO summit? How can I even know she’s the first woman you’ve slept with since we got together? See I can’t trust you anymore Emmanuel.”

“There never was any other woman before … her” he could not say her name. Not just yet, and especially not in his wife’s presence.

“What about restraining yourself when she will be around. Can you promise me you won’t get anywhere near her ever again?”

 _No_ , he thought. As much as he loved his wife, saying that he would never lay a finger on the Croatian president was way beyond anything he could promise. He could not even bear the thought of not seeing her every day. In fact, he needed her like he needed oxygen.

“Brigitte I’m sorry” he said, and he truly was.

“So am I…” she paused, and after a while, she added “Well maybe…”

“Maybe?!” he said, full of hope. His heart had jumped in his chest at the thought that _maybe_ there was a way Brigitte would not leave him.

“Maybe we could make a pact. I’m not asking you not to touch her again. Just… should it happen again… I would like to be a part of it, Emmanuel.”

Emmanuel could not believe what his wife was suggesting. It was completely insane… and yet, if it was the price to pay for him to keep these two women in his life, he was willing to pay it… He wondered what Kolinda would think about this…

**Kolinda**

_Kolinda, I want a divorce. I can’t say you make me unhappy, but I can’t say you make me happy either… and I know you feel the exact same way. We’ve both wasted enough years of our lives in this nonsense of a marriage, and I don’t think I can take it any longer. See, when I saw the pictures and videos of you flirting with the French president, I realised our marriage is definitely over. I desperately want to be mad at you, at him, but I cannot. No matter how hard I try, I feel nothing but indifference. The children are adults now and I don’t think they will be upset at all. We both deserve better than this marriage. You are a smart, charming, funny and beautiful woman; I wish you all the best and hope that the end of our union won’t mean the end of your political career. Our country still needs you; I still need you as my president._

_Jakov._

This was the first text Jakov had sent her in months - she was flabbergasted. She understood very well the words on her screen - she had read them a solid hundred times – but she refused to believe them. _I wish you all the best and hope that the end of our union won’t mean the end of your political career._ How did she ever fall in love such a bloody imbecile?! Of course this was the end of her political career. She was a conservative leader, a catholic and – it was the cherry on the cake - a woman… A divorce was bound to ruin her already shaky reputation- she might as well resign now before the media meddled in... She could definitely sense the potential for a scandal... 

She was furious to the point all she could text before turning on the flight mode was

“FUCK YOU JAKOV”


	7. Love is complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!! So happy I got to write a paragraph from Brigitte's POV :)

**Brigitte**

Brigitte had once been a passionate lover, but it had seemed that, with years going by, the passion she and Emmanuel shared had turned into platonic affection. Now she loved him like she loved Sébastien, her oldest son - the unconditional love of a mother. They shared dreams, ideas, day-to-day life, the same bed, and yet, Brigitte hadn’t performed her conjugal duties in years. She could tell from the way he looked at her – or actually did not look at her – that he did not fancy her anymore… not like that anyway, and she didn’t feel the urge either. That was until the World Cup.

When she had met Kolinda Grabar-Kitarovic, she had known straight away that there was something special about the woman – apart from the fact that she had beautiful skin and smelled like fresh vanilla that is.  She had hugged her husband, and then her with an apologetic smile, as if she was already trying to atone the sin that they were about to commit the very same night.

Brigitte had felt like the Croatian president and her husband had spent more time looking at each other than at the match itself, and it had made her feel uneasy – surprisingly _not_ because she was jealous of Grabar-Kitarovic. Actually, she did not even condemn her husband – truth be told, the Croat was so beautiful that she herself had difficulties taking her eyes off of her.

At some point, Kolinda and Emmanuel had gotten closer, she had stroked his back, and Brigitte had felt her legs weaken. They had laughed, and Emmanuel had hugged the other woman’s waist, while she had whispered something in her ear.  Brigitte had clutched the arms of her chair in an attempt to control the jolt of heat she had felt in her lower back.

She knew that uncomfortable sensation very well actually, and she knew how wrong it was for her to feel that … because of Kolinda. It was not the Croat she was jealous of, but her own husband, and his hands on her. _She_ wanted to hug the other woman’s slender waist, so that she could feel her body against _hers_ , inhale her sent and feel the softness of her skin…

She had had to restrain from standing up to tell her how unworthy her husband’s hand was of hers. Only she would have worshipped that hand like it ought to be worshipped, kissing each fingers like the beautiful jewels they were.

That night, she had pretended she was feeling unwell. She fancied Kolinda just as much as she liked her husband, and she could not stand the sight of the two of them together any longer. She had stayed in her room that night, fantasising guiltily about the things she wanted to do to Kolinda, touching herself the very way she wanted to touch the other woman, giving herself more orgasms in one night than she had over the past couple months.

**Kolinda**

Kolinda cursed – she was close to throwing the damn phone through the window. She had finally made it home into her bed, and all she was asking for was a break. It had been a difficult day – emotionally and physically, and she was still hungover from the previous night.

She shuddered when she saw the name on the screen. She had hoped to see that name all day long, and yet she didn’t know whether to answer or not.

She pressed the green button, trembling.

“Hi…” she whispered, as if she was afraid someone would hear her - and yet, her big house was empty as ever. Jakov had left, and the kids were away as well…

“I’ve missed you.” the long-awaited voice answered.

She closed her eyes to fully appreciate the soothing words in her ear.

“I’ve missed you too. It feels like years ago since I was in your arms and nothing else mattered…”

“I know Kolinda. My beautiful Kolinda. It has been a long day…”

“Jakov is leaving me…”

There, she had said it. Her voice was shaking. It is as if saying these three words out loud had made her fully realise the fact that her husband was actually not going to be her husband anymore

“I am sorry Kolinda. I wish I could be there to hold you in my arms”

“Keep talking, please”

He was as if his voice was healing her soul.

“I’m holding you tight against my chest. And I'm caressing your gorgeous hair. And I'm looking at your beautiful face. And then I kiss you gently. I kiss every inch of your body, and you let yourself go. And then you to forget everything else; it is just you and me and our intertwined bodies. I love you Kolinda.”

She cried. She had not allowed herself to cry for years, and the relief was real. Between her sobs she managed to utter:

“I love you Emmanuel”

**Emmanuel**

He could not bear the idea of her crying on her own, so far away from him. All he wanted was to be with her and hold her hand through this. He could not find it in himself to speak to her about the ultimatum Brigitte had given him. He would deal with this later… He could not put her through this just yet.

But he was upset, even more so because he found himself with no one to speak to. Brigitte had always been his only best friend and it made her betrayal all the more difficult to handle. He wanted to confide in her but he was also well aware that it was not an option…

What had he done to find himself trapped into such an insane situation? He didn’t want to hurt the two women he loved. All he wanted was to run away, but there was no escape.


	8. impromptu visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a difficult chapter here... Hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless.

 

**Kolinda**

She missed Emmanuel with her every cell, every second of every minute of every single day she hadn’t seen him. She needed his comforting arms around her more than anything, and more than ever. She had been sleeping on the couch in her office for three days in a row, trying to avoid the emptiness of her big house. “sleeping” was a strong word, for all she had done was lie down for a couple of hours, eyes wide open at the ceiling. Every time she made an attempt to close them, she saw his face, as if it was tattooed on her eyelids.

A knock on the door brought her back to reality. She glanced at the clock – it read 2 AM. She wondered who might want to see her at such an inappropriate time. Plus, she hadn’t told anyone that she was sleeping there, and only a very limited number of people had access to her office after work hours.

“The door’s open” she mumbled.

She gasped when she saw Andrej walked in.

**Andrej**

He had had way too much alcohol, and he couldn’t contain himself anymore. He loved that woman more than he loved himself. Actually, he despised himself, and he despised what he was about to do to her, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted her, and he needed her, now.  He couldn’t stand the idea of looking at her every day without being able to touch her anymore. She was always so sexy with those tight dresses and those heels... and her incredible scent never failed to make him dizzy with lust. He literally worshipped her, doing her every bidding, and breathing only when she allowed him to. And yet, she didn’t want him – not like that anyway… as a friend, perhaps, and he knew very well that her friendship was all he could ever hope for.

Knowing she had slept with the French president, and that her husband was now leaving her drove him crazy. These two men were so unworthy of her…

He could see the fear in her eyes as he walked into her office, and it aroused him to a point he could not do anything but jump on her, then and there, without listening to her desperate supplications, and with a strength that annihilated all of her attempts to resist

“Oh my sweet sweet Kolinda… You drive me mad. “ he muttered, pressing her roughly between his body and the wall. He ignored her sobs, inhaling her hair deeply before forcing his tongue into her mouth to silence her. She tasted heavenly, fruity and aromatic, like a rich French wine.

“Argh…”

She had bitten his tongue.

“You wee cunt! I’m going to fuck the shit out of you” He shouted. Driven by anger and lust, he slapped her, savagely ripped off her clothes, and pushed his pulsing member inside her.

“Hoooon” he groaned. “You feel soooo nice… so hot and tight. Bet you my cock is bigger inside you than _his_ right?”

She did not answer, still numb from the way he had hit her in the face, but he couldn’t care less. All he could think about was her tight little pussy sucking in his big cock. He caressed her bare boobs appreciatively, and then her butt… He couldn’t resist the temptation of forcing two fingers inside her anus, making her tremble with pain.

“You’re so pretty, my sweet darling president.” He stroked her hair in a way that was almost too gentle, before pulling it back to see her beautiful face distorted by terror, and, shamelessly, he started to move inside her, in and out, and in and out. Hard and deep, and harder and deeper. He felt a liquid dripping, hot and sticky, along his thighs, and the smell of blood invaded his nostrils. She was probably unconscious at that point, but she was his, and it was all that mattered to him.

 

**Kolinda**

_I’ve been trying to get in touch Kolinda. Why aren’t you answering my phone calls/texts/emails? Hope you’re not regretting what happened between us. I’m here if you need to talk about Jakov.  I miss you so much. Love, Emmanuel._

She simply could not answer him. She was broken, inside and out. She could not possibly tell him what had happened… He’d flew to Croatia right away to destroy the monster that had assaulted her…

She shuddered, remembering his wild eyes devouring her, and his beastly hands on her naked skin… She felt so dirty… She had showered for hours, trying to wash off the dirty thing he had done to her, but she could not wash off the bruises that flourished on her whole body. She couldn’t even look at her face in the mirror. It was as if life had left her body, and all that remained of her old self was only a mere shadow, and a wounded soul within an empty shell.

She heard a knock on the door, which made her tremble in apprehension. She always expected the door to open on _him_ , and she couldn’t… not just yet …

She felt the air fill her lungs again when she realised it was only Josip, her secretary. Josip was very much gay, and that was the only reason she tolerated the presence of a man around her.

“Madam President…” he was playing with his hands, looking a bit embarrassed.  
“Yes, that would be me” she said sarcastically.

“Well… I know you said you didn’t want any visitors but…”

“I don’t want any visitors, period.”

“But…”

“But there’s no but. I don’t pay you to discuss my orders”

“But she insisted Madam president…”

“ _She_?”

And only then did she notice the woman standing within the doorframe. She swallowed her breath a bit too quickly, nearly choking. Tall and slender, the woman entered her office with an air of pride and elegance that was stereotypically French – it was Brigitte Macron.


	9. Women at it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of femmeslash fluff here ;) There's never enough of it. Enjoy!

**Kolinda**

“Dobro jutro, madam president” the other woman said in perfect Croatian.

She put a hand on her shoulder and kissed her on both cheeks. Kolinda nearly expected to get slapped – after all she deserved it, and it would have made things less bad somehow… but Brigitte was acting unbelievably friendly, which made her question the motives of her visit.

“Bonjour Madame… Macron” 

It felt weird to use his name to address another… the whole situation in its whole was terribly uncomfortable, but at the same time, she felt somewhat of a warmth in her chest - in fact, after what she had been through the presence of a woman was reassuring.

“Please call me Brigitte. Mr Josip, do you mind leaving us alone?” she enquired.

Josip gave Kolinda an undecisive look; the president acquiesced. Kolinda waited for the door to be closed, to say:

 “Look, Brigitte. I didn’t mean for it to happen… I… we tried to resist… the alcohol…”

“The alcohol only triggered something that I am certain would have happened anyway. I know my husband, and I knew the very second he laid his eyes on you. Don’t lie to me and tell me it is just sex He loves you Kolinda. And he misses you. He has been really depressed lately – because he hasn’t heard from you… So, I thought I’d come here to speak to you. I don’t want you to feel miserable because of me…”

“This hasn’t got anything to do with you.”

Her voice was trembling. It was as if the wound was being teared open… She felt so dirty she wanted to rip off her own skin, to burn alive and cease to exist, right there, and before she could feel the pain again… Too late. She burst into tears, falling back onto the couch.

Next thing she knew, comforting arms were hugging her tightly. The fabric of the other woman’s dress felt smooth under her skin; she inhaled her flowery scent, and it soothed her. A silent half hour went by, only interrupted by her sobs.

“I was raped” she said in a whisper.

Brigitte untightened their embrace, and she looked at her face intently.  Her piercing blue eyes darkened instantly, clouded by a feeling Kolinda struggled to identify. Was it hate? Anger? Pain? Compassion? Probably a mixture of all four…

“What miserable piece of shit would do such a horrible thing to a sweet angel like you?”

“It was… the prime minister.”, she muttered. She couldn’t resolve to say his vile name out loud.

“Honey…”

The French woman cupped her face between her palms, and Kolinda closed her eyes. She felt the lips of the other woman gently kissing her forehead, her eyelids, one after the other, the tip of her nose and finally her lips. The kiss was so tender that she got lost in it. She felt loved and secure in Brigitte’s caring arms… She hadn’t felt that way since the night…

**Emmanuel**

He couldn’t believe it… His lover first, and now his wife? What had he done for the women in his life to run away from him? Actually, he had one or two ideas as to what he had done… He’d been a complete jerk… What was he thinking? That he could have them both for himself? That it would be his happy ending? Yes. That’s what he had thought. How wrong he was… And now they were gone – both of them.

Kolinda hadn’t answered his messages and phone calls in days, and Brigitte was nowhere to be seen – and god knew where she was. All she had left was a brief note telling him she would be away for “an indefinite period of time” and advising him not to worry… Of course he was worried. But what could he do?

_Hello, Brigitte Macron speaking. I am currently not available. Please leave a message._

He hung up and took one of the pillows that were lying on the couch of his office. He punched it, savagely, with all the strength he had in him. A swarm of snow white feathers spun around him.

 _Fuck it,_ he thought, and he dialled his travel assistant.

“Hello Alexandre? Can you please get me a private jet and a pilot – as soon as possible.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Alexandre asked.

Emmanuel smiled - maybe he had no idea where Brigitte was, but he knew exactly where Kolinda was.

“Zagreb”

**Brigitte**

Brigitte played with a blond curl, distractedly. Kolinda, after crying for a whole hour, had eventually fallen asleep in her lap, and she didn’t dare waking her up. The Croat looked so beautiful and peaceful it would have been a crime. She could almost feel the steady heartbeats of the blond against her own, and it was an amazing sensation.

She felt shocked and outraged by what had happened to the beautiful and yet so fragile creature she was holding in her arms. She couldn’t understand what kind of monster would perpetrate such an atrocious crime. All she wanted was to hurt the miserable wretch the way that it hurt her precious Kolinda.

She couldn’t help but think of her husband, and what he would do if he discovered the truth. She felt a pinch in her heart thinking of how worried he probably was at that very moment, but she knew for certain that she had done the right thing coming to Zagreb. Right now, Kolinda needed her more than her husband.

_She needed Kolinda more than she needed her husband._


	10. A sight to remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter made me so so happy <3 I live for femmeslash. Had no idea my fanfiction would take this path though

**Kolinda**

Brigitte had taken Kolinda to a nearby hotel. She thought that the beautiful Croat could use some time away from her office and from her home.

“I’m gonna go to my room…”, she said, after she’d taken Kolinda to her room, however, reading instantly the distress in the sweet brown eyes of the president, she quickly added:

“Or I can stay. But only if you want me to.”

“Yes please, stay. I don’t want to be on my own.” Kolinda whispered, grateful.

The room was not fancy, but it was cosy and welcoming, with a massive bed - which was exactly what they needed. They sat next to each other on the white bedsheets, and Kolinda leaned onto Brigitte's shoulder.

“I think you could use a hot shower honey” Brigitte said, gently stroking her back and touching her forehead with her lips, just like she used to do with Tiphaine – her youngest – when she needed comfort. She felt so much empathy for the younger woman she would have done anything to make her feel better…

“Can I ask you for some weird favour Brigitte?” she enquired timidly.

“Of course sweetie. Anything you want. I’m here with you now”

A tear lingered on the president’s thick eyelashes before rolling down her cheek. Her lips trembled as she asked:

“Will you shower with me?”

Brigitte swallowed with difficulty, and after drying the tear with a kiss, she nodded.

“Yes, of course”

And she started to unbutton the Croat’s shirt delicately, taking in the sight of her bare skin. Kolinda closed her eyes, breathing a sigh of contentment. Brigitte felt her heart racing faster in her chest. She could hardly refrain her excitement, and yet, she managed to take off the other woman’s shirt with the utmost gentleness. She kneeled in front of her, sliding off her tights and then her skirt, uncovering more shivering skin with every stroke.

Brigitte shuddered and felt her heart squeeze in her chest as she uncovered more bruises. With every second that went by, she felt more hatred for the monster who was responsible for Kolinda’s suffering.

She laid kisses onto every ecchymosis, somewhat trying to mend the wounds with her loving caresses. The woman’s skin was soft as silk, and she smelled of a thousand roses on a midsummer night. Eventually, Brigitte slid off Kolinda’s knickers, and sat on her lap to unclasp her bra. She took a moment to admire the other woman’s bare chests. The mounds of flesh were firm and rounded, and her nipples, pink and erect seemed to be inviting her to sin.

“Do you like them?” Kolinda asked, waking her from her reverie. She didn’t sound annoyed in the least.

“They’re perfect…” Brigitte muttered, a bit embarrassed, but honest.

“Let me see you now.”

Brigitte obediently stood up, taking off her dress and freeing her pear-like boobs – she had never had to wear a bra in her entire life – in the process. Then, she bent to remove her shoes and knickers; she now stood embarrassingly naked in front of Kolinda who seemed to be scanning every inch of her body with acute attention. Brigitte knew she was no longer young, and she had the body of a woman who had borne three babies… She blushed, modestly.

**Kolinda**

“You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed of. You are sincerely breath-taking” Kolinda said, and she was sincere.

She stood up and walked towards the bathroom door, providing Brigitte with a brand new perspective on her naked body. To her surprise, she was getting increasingly aroused by the whole situation. The more time she spent with the French woman the more she craved for intimacy with her. Brigitte made her feel safe and loved and she now knew what Emmanuel loved so much about her; she was without a doubt the most caring and sweet  person she had ever met… and she was hot as hell too.

Kolinda felt even more exposed to the gaze of the other woman as she walked to the bathroom. She couldn’t see it, but she could sense it on her skin, and it gave her goose bumps.

Brigitte followed her into the shower, she turned the hot water on, and she started massaging some soap onto her shoulder. She moaned in delight as the other woman’s fingers endeavoured to worship her whole body from top to bottom, gentle, caring and soothing. She closed her eyes, to enjoy the pleasure those fingers were giving her even more fully

She felt greedy lips nibbling at her neck.

“How are you feeling?” Brigitte’s hot breath pleasantly teased her ear.

Kolinda turned round so as to face the other woman, and she answered “alive”, sealing their lips together in a passionate kiss.

**Emmanuel**

Emmanuel had made it to Zagreb. He was very excited to discover the country of this woman he loved. However, he had thought he would go there in different circumstances, on her side. He had been to the presidential office where he’d been told the president had left with “a friend” earlier that day.

He felt stupid. He had no idea where she stayed, and no means to find out. What was he thinking? He decided to look for a hotel to stay for the night - hopefully, he would have more luck the next day…

The taxi dropped him in front of the nearest hotel – nothing pretentious, but it would be more than enough for the night. He pressed the elevator’s button distractedly, replying to a panicked text from his first minister. He sighed – it was the price to pay for putting puppets at the government; they couldn’t do anything without him…

_Ding_

The elevator brought him back to reality, and the doors slid open on a sight that would remain engraved in his memory forever; two women making out passionately. _His_ women…


	11. There is no healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a short chapter here... and two (maybe three) more on the way :) Hope you're still enjoying this. i'm open to criticism as I know that this is far from perfect.

**Emmanuel**

“What the hell??”

He didn’t know whether to feel angry, hurt or aroused. Actually, he still struggled to process what was happening in front of him. He had to say the last person he expected to meet in Zagreb was his wife. Also, it was such a strange coincidence that they had chosen the same hotel… Somewhat, he wished he hadn’t come; he didn’t feel ready to have that conversation with either of them… and judging from their faces, neither were they.

“Emmanuel???” they both said, simultaneously.

“The one and only…”

“Look I can explain… I … ” Kolinda said

“To me it looks pretty clear, mrs president” he said, coldly. “Look, I know I’m a cheater too… But this…” he gestured at them, looking for his words “you hooking up with my… my girlfriend, is sick” he eventually told Brigitte.

“Excuse me?” Brigitte sounded offended. “You didn’t seem to mind when I suggested we had a threesome.”

“Wait… you suggested what?” Kolinda, said, in shock. “The two of you are out of your mind. I cannot believe this… You can’t have that type of discussion without asking my opinion. You guys are sick… Also I’m no one’s girlfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh really ??? We are sick ? _You_ are the one who slept with a couple”

“Oh shut up Emmanuel.”

“How dare you telling me to shut up?”

“ENOUGH” Kolinda said, using her SWBO voice.

“Don’t you dare following me or I’ll get you both arrested for harassing the president.”

She was already in tears when she walked out of the hotel. The whole situation was so messed up… She had cheated on Jakov with the president of France, her husband was now leaving her, her prime minister had abused her sexually, and she had had rebound sex with her lover’s wife… who had suggested she had a threesome with her and her husband. When had she become such a piece of trash? She absolutely hated the person she’d become since the world cup. How much she’d give to go back in time…

Blinded with her own tears, she made her way to the only place she knew she would find comfort and forgiveness; the Church.

**Brigitte**

“Brigitte. What have we done?” Emmanuel sat against the wall, holding his head within his hands. Brigitte sat next to him. Somehow, neither she or her husband felt like fighting anymore. She felt bitter and she could tell he felt that way too, so she sat next to him, hugging his shoulders with her arm.

“I should have never come here” he whispered.

She always felt that, because she was older, she had to be wisereleased, and no matter what her husband did, she took the blame on herself.

“me neither…”

“We don’t deserve her Brigitte…”

He looked at her. Blue eyes met, pleading for forgiveness in a tide of regrets.

“Most certainly not… I’m sorry Emmanuel”  
She briefly brushed her lips against his, and they hugged, holding onto each other as if they were afraid the moment could disappear. That emotional connection they shared was so deep it was probably the one and only thing she truly valued in this world. She loved him, unconditionally, and she knew he did to. He laid his head onto her chest as if it was a pillow, and she inhaled his hair, as if he was a toddler. His fragrance, musky and empowering meddled with the odour of soap. She couldn’t refrain from saying

“You smell like home”  
“You’re my home, Brigitte, he replied. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have slept with her in the first place.”

“I can’t really blame you. That lassy is hotter than the heatwave” she said after a while.

He hit her playfully with his elbow, and they both laughed.

“How come everyone thinks I’m the gay one in this relationship?”

She grinned.

“Because you’re sweet and you blush like a coy young lady?. Look… We’ve got to find Kolinda and apologize and…

“and?”

“And then we’ll take things from there. I can’t imagine how the poor thing must be feeling. I mean… her husband… the rape… and now this.”

Brigitte covered her hand with her mouth, realising what she had just said… but it was too late.

**Emmanuel**

He was running through the streets of Zagreb, his blood boiling with rage. How??? How dared that insignificant coward touch his precious Kolinda? The wretch had to suffer, and he’d gladly be the one to make him. Brigitte hadn’t meant to tell him what had happened, or who it was, but ha had forced her.

He had squeezed her wrist so hard that he would have probably broken them if she’d not told him the truth. He was not one to hurt a woman, and he’d probably feel sorry later, but then,he couldn’t control his anger.

With, each step, he was hitting the pavement with more hate, more fire. He was going to destroy Jakov Plenkovic even if it was the last think he did.

 

 

 


	12. Love is the most wonderful thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally aware this story is becoming less and less believable with each chapter but I thorougly enjoy writing it.

**Kolinda**

Kolinda fell onto her knees, praying for forgiveness. The Lord had never let her down until then; she had always felt his presence on her side, when things had been tough with her husband, during the campaign for the presidential elections… but then she was virtuous. These days she could hardly look at herself in the mirror. How did she dare present herself to God?

“Please, forgive me. Please.”, she muttered. A tear ran down her cheek, landing onto the cold pavement she was kneeling on.  
A noise behind her drew her attention away from her prayers.

She turned around.

“YOU” she gasped. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

Andrej, right out of the confessional, accompanied by the priest.

She felt dizzy all of a sudden. The smell of her own blood was filling her nostrils and it was as if she could feel his hands, rough and brutal onto her skin; she could not handle it…

“Did you forgive him?” she asked the priest. Her trembling voice echoed against the walls of the church, deafening. “DID YOU?” She shouted, as the priest wouldn’t answer.

“I don’t forgive you Andrej. You don’t deserve forgiveness you bastard! See what you did to me?” She teared off her tights, unveiling her bruises. “I hope you go to hell for this! Can you hear me ?! To hell!”

Andrej had closed the distance between them.

“You’re out of your mind Kolinda. You need to calm down. You don’t want a scandal, do you?”

“DON’T YOU DARE TELLING ME WHAT I WANT. See what you did to my body? It’s nothing compared to what you did to my soul, you monster.”

She knew he was close. She was pushing him to the edge. She was aware that it was wrong, but she didn’t know any better.

“Don’t you touch me, you coward”

  
“STOP. INSULTING. ME.”  
He pinned her savagely to the wall, and she spat on his face.

“BITCH; Do you sincerely think I feel good about myself? The truth is, I feel horrible. But the priest is right. You are the incarnation of the devil. You came to tempt me with your slutty ways. I didn’t do this to you. You did this to yourself.”

He was so close that She could distinguish the gouts of sweat on his forehead. He was possessing her again, and there was nothing she could do; she was petrified.  
He leaned forward. She could feel his breath in her neck and it made her shiver with horror. It was all too familiar.

He rubbed his hard member against her thigh, and, freeing her hand, he slid his fingers on her slit through her knickers.

“You can’t help being wet for me, can you?”

He smiled carnivorously, and, grabbing her chin, he forced his lips onto hers, biting her flesh. He sucked her blood and pushing her brutally against the wall he released her.

Her head hit the rough surface; the last thing she remembered before fainting was the taste of her own blood was intoxicating her, and his voice saying:

“You’re lucky we’re in the house of the lord, you slut”

…

**Andrej**

She was driving him crazy. He didn’t recognize himself in her presence. His instincts took over his sense. He needed her smell, the feel of her skin under his hands, of her body under his. He wanted her to be his, only his. And he well knew she would never be. She was a free spirit. And she only gave herself partly to a selected few, and he was nowhere near that list. Especially not with the recent events.

He felt alive and powerful when he forced himself onto her. He will never own her heart but in these moments, he owned her physically and it was the best he would ever get. He loved her so much, it was insane, in every way possible.

“Plenkovic!” He heard a voice say his name in his back.

He barely had the time to turn around before Macron’s fist hit his face, sending him to unconsciousness.

…

**Emmanuel**

“Emmanuel… Why did you do this?”

Her voice was barely a whisper and he could tell she had difficulties speaking. He felt a squeeze in his guts. He hated seeing her like this, and at that very moment, he wished he'd killed Andrej...

“He deserved it”

“He doesn’t deserve you getting into trouble…”

“I don’t care…  What he did to you…”

“… has happened, and there’s nothing we can do about it now”

He took her hands within his, and he realised that they were both crying

“You deserve the world Kolinda. I am sorry for what happened with Brigitte… I…”

“Shttt” She lay her index finger on his lower lip and delicately she drew his lip line with the tip of her finger. He couldn’t help closing his eyes.

“You are trying to save your marriage. Because it is saveable. And I got angry because there is absolutely no way I can save mine. And all people want me for is sex… You… Brigitte… Andrej…”

He opened his eyes. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Kolinda my sweet sweet Kolinda. It’s not like that at all. I can’t speak for Brigitte here. But I love you. Yes, I love making love to you. But I also love the thousand small things that make you you. Your passion, your warmth, your wits, the way you smile with your eyes. I love you.”

“And so do I” Brigitte was standing at the door, beaming.

She sat on the other side of Kolinda’s hospital bed, joining their hands within hers.

“I love you too. The two of you.” Kolinda said. 

Emmanuel felt a warmth growing within his stomach, and he knew Brigitte and Kolinda could feel it too. Loving and being loved in return was the most wonderful thing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
